


One Small Candle

by HeartOfStars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Gen, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Mentioned Padmé Amidala, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Quote: The Force works in mysterious ways, Spell I hope there is enough angst for you, Torture, Violence, trust me there is a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfStars/pseuds/HeartOfStars
Summary: For fifteen years, Darth Vader has been haunted by the ghosts of his past; meditation has become torture as he is reminded, over and over again, of what he has done. But one day, one of his ghosts resurfaces in the flesh...in more ways than one.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 125
Collections: 2020 Star Wars Summer Fic Exchange





	One Small Candle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpellCleaver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpellCleaver/gifts).



> So I wrote two fics for the exchange! Spell's person dropped out, so I was all too happy to write her one.
> 
> Warning to those of you who have a problem with torture; there's some of that here. It never gets too bad, but it's there, so just take care of yourselves. 
> 
> Also, many many thanks to the amazing [PrayForPiett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prayforpiett/pseuds/prayforpiett) for looking this over! She helped me smooth some things over and even brought this back from the brink when it got too dark. Thanks so much!

_ “I have the power to save the one you love.”  _

_ He is back with the ghosts of his past, with his fears, the people he killed; he is with them every time he meditates. But today...today, for some reason, it is worse.  _

_ He hears the voice, Palpatine’s voice, over and over: an ultimatum, a threat, but more than anything else a taunt. He is where he is for the sake of those words, those honeyed words whispered into his ear, such sweet promises. They were presented as the garden of Eden and eternal paradise; in the end, they were the inferno, the darkest circle of hell he could have imagined, made specially for him. He should be angry, and he is; but it is not Palpatine who wrought this chaos, who murdered and turned against the Jedi he had served with. It is him. It is Vader. _

_ What would be right would be to kill Palpatine for lying to him, but he is not strong enough, not anymore...so what he should do instead is to kill himself.  _

_ He longs for it constantly; he is able to ignore it well enough by distracting himself with his duties, by taking out his rage on worthless officers. But it is here, in this meditation chamber, surrounded only by his thoughts and what was, and the false echoes of what  _ could have been,  _ that he wishes for it desperately.  _

_ He should die. It is what is right, to rid the galaxy of such a monster...and more than that(because above all he is selfish), it is what he wants. He can only imagine the sweet relief, the release from pain, that would follow. It is right.  _

_ But he cannot do it. He is too weak, too cowardly even for that.  _

_ Besides, death is perhaps too sweet a mercy for him. So instead, he meditates...and punishes himself with the voices of those who he either has killed, or who have died by the events he brought about.  _

_ “I have the power to save the one you love,” his Master had said. He had lied. He did not have that power.  _

_ All the ones he loved are dead.  _

_ And tonight, tonight especially, they return to torment him. Perhaps it is because Vader has just received word from Palpatine that the Death Star, his horrid weapon of destruction, has reached a turning point; it nears completion, only a few years away. Perhaps it is that. But it could be anything else.  _

_ The dead, after all, need no new reason to torment him. They already have enough. _

_ “Ani.” He cringed away from the touch of his mother, that reproachful voice. “I am so disappointed in you. You were my son. You were kind. How could you--” _

_ By now, he is used to this routine. Even in the hazy landscape of meditation, he can see her clearly; clearly enough to push her away.  _

_ “Leave me,” he snarls, and she vanishes.  _

_ He floats uncertainly for a little longer--then comes the next visitor.  _

_ “I thought you were the Chosen One,” says Qui-Gon Jinn, staring sternly down at him. “You were supposed to bring balance to the Force, but how could I be such a fool? I should have seen the darkness in you immediately; the selfishness. You could never have been--” _

_ “Away,” he shouts, and Qui-Gon disappears as well.  _

_ But as soon as Qui-Gon disappears, the next comes forward; this one is harder to ignore.  _

_ “You promised,” Ahsoka tells him, tears in her eyes. “You promised you would never let anyone hurt me, Master--” _

_ “Go AWAY!” he roars.  _

_ “You sent my own soldiers to kill me!” she screams; and then she is gone as well.  _

_ He knows. He knows that is his fault… _

_ No. He has thought about this before. It has been years, it has been fifteen years; he has already thought about this. Ahsoka has not been here in many months. Why does she come now? He understands what he did to her, he knows--he saw her lightsabers where they fell.  _

_ Thinking about the past will change nothing.  _

_ And yet, he knows that one more ghost will come: the last, the one who always comes...the one he fears...the one he loves more than anything.  _

_ There is a brush across his hand.  _

_ “Anakin,” Padme Amidala says gently.  _

_ He says nothing. He only looks up at her, at the wife, the woman, the  _ empress  _ he was denied. She has nothing but love there; for once. For once, she does not look on him with hatred.  _

_ She could almost be alive again.  _

_ He reaches toward her-- _

_ “Do  _ not  _ touch me,” she snarls, backpedaling, and the moment is gone. “You killed me, you turned away from me--we could have had everything! I gave you my love, my life, and you betrayed it all.” _

_ “I...I know,” he stammers, wishing to see the look of love return to her.  _

_ “That is not the worst,” she says coldly. “Even that is not the worst. You killed our child, the child we would have loved--you killed him without a second thought!”  _

_ She starts to disappear.  _

_ “No,” he says, wanting her to return, even though he knows she will only abuse him, “wait--” _

_ But as she vanishes, he hears another voice--a voice he has never heard before.  _

_ “Father!”  _

_ He turns toward the sound; it’s small, plaintive, the voice of a child.  _

_ “Father!” the voice calls again, from his left. He turns again.  _

_ “Son,” he says, desperately, though he knows it will only torture him. “My son. Where are you?”  _

_ And then he sees him: a boy, a small boy of about seven years. His hair is golden, his eyes a bright blue; he looks like Anakin, exactly like him...except that Vader can tell this boy has Padme’s heart.  _

_ “My son,” he says, hurrying toward him. “I--” _

_ “You killed me,” the boy says, drawing back. “You killed me. I hate you!” _

_ Vader knows this--and yet, he has never wanted more than to plunge his own lightsaber into his heart.  _

_ “Son,” he demands, “what is your name?” _

_ But the boy smiles.  _

_ “I have no name,” he says. “I am nameless, thanks to you.”  _

_ And then he starts to vanish as well.  _

_ “No!” Vader shouts, desperate, more desperate than he has ever felt, because this, in this horrible land of despair, is the one chance he has to know his only son...the son he never had. “NO!” The child continues to disappear. “Come back!”  _

_ “No, Father,” the boy whispers, and then vanishes.  _

_ And then Vader, once more, is left with his bitterness, and his fears, and himself.  _

  
  


“Lord Vader!” 

Darth Vader stumbled from his meditation chamber, full of fury, and rage, and a hatred of all things living--another ordinary day. 

Vanee awaited him. 

“What is it?” Vader growled. 

“The High Inquisitor requests your presence, my lord,” Vanee replied in his timid croak. “He has brought the Rebel agent Fulcrum.” 

“Fulcrum.” Vader has heard this name, he knows when he first heard it; but the last he knew, this identity was borne by a human male. “And why has this come to me?”

“Fulcrum is a Jedi,” came Vanee’s response, and Vader felt fury course through him; fury, and eagerness. At last. 

“Which Jedi?” he asked, knowing the answer. At last, Obi-Wan would be before him, and Vader would have his revenge--

“Ahsoka Tano.” 

If not for the mechanisms of the suit, Vader’s heart would have stopped. 

Ahsoka was not dead. 

She had  _ never  _ been dead. 

She must have faked her death, naturally; those lightsabers must have been left there to divert him, Vader realized. A clever trick. 

And now he had something to decide. 

A small part of him, long buried, wanted to hurry toward her and sweep her into an embrace...but that was Anakin speaking. Anakin was quick to forgive, quick to love; but what Vader remembered was that Ahsoka had left him. She had left, when he needed her most; she, already cynical of the Jedi, would have found a different way, a better way, to help Padme. 

She would have given him support. 

What had happened was Obi-Wan’s fault, and Palpatine’s...and it was also Ahsoka Tano’s. 

“Any other news?” he asked Vanee. “Make it quick.” 

“Ah...yes, my lord,” Vanee replied. “Fulcrum was captured with her apprentice.” 

  
  


“Lord Vader!” The Grand Inquisitor seemed all too proud of the deed he’d accomplished; he stood before Vader with his arms spread wide and head tipped back, as if he’d just sung the ending number in a theatre performance. “Behold, the--”

“Do not waste my time with your melodrama,” Vader snarled, throwing out an arm and hurling the Grand Inquisitor out of his way with the Force. “Leave us.” 

“Lord Vader,” said the Inquisitor, looking slightly miffed, “are you sure? These are two very powerful--”

“I am a Sith Lord,” Vader told him shortly. “I am the Emperor’s apprentice, I am Darth Vader, and I am the one known as the  _ Jedi Killer,  _ do you  _ understand?”  _ He took a moment to watch both understanding and appropriate fear enter the Pau'an's eyes.  _ “Leave. Us.”  _

The Grand Inquisitor left without another word. 

Now Vader turned his attention to Ahsoka. 

She wasn’t alone there, of course; there was a slip of a boy next to her, glaring up at him, but he ignored the child for now. Ahsoka was what mattered, his  _ revenge _ was what mattered. 

“Fulcrum,” he said. 

Ahsoka stared straight up at him, unafraid. 

“Darth Vader,” she shot back. 

Of course. He used her code name; she would use his new title. It was her way, he supposed, of saying he was dead to her...or else she did not yet know who he had been. 

That was all right with Vader. He didn’t want to hear  _ that name  _ ever again. 

“I suppose that you are not going to tell me,” he said, “how you faked your death?”

Ahsoka tilted her head and closed her eyes, almost as if she was considering it; then, she opened her eyes and continued to stare. “Nope.” 

She had her hands bound behind her back in some type of Force-suppressing binders--as did her runt of an apprentice--but that did not stop her from glaring at him, as if she could see through into his mind. 

“Just do it,” she said at last. “Kill me. You’re a Sith Lord, you have me at your mercy, and I won’t give you anything.” 

He stared at her. Was it truly possible that she did not know? The boy was worthless, he would know nothing of their history--so she could say what she wished. But she hadn’t. 

She didn’t know. 

He almost thought of telling her, but thought better about it. 

“Kill me,” she said again, speaking even softer, “like you killed Padme Amidala.” 

Vader’s insides froze. She  _ did  _ know, she just didn’t want to say it in explicit terms; but, surprisingly, her apprentice’s head snapped up all the same, horror and anger and fear filling his eyes all at once--

No. Vader ignored him. He was not important. 

Ahsoka continued to stare into his soul, and all at once, every last shred of Vader’s compassion toward her vanished. She dared to speak Padme’s name, remind him of what he had done--

The boy  _ was  _ important, he decided. For this one purpose. 

Ahsoka would suffer...the way Vader had suffered. 

Vader reached out with the Force. Ahsoka stiffened, clearly preparing herself for a blow; then relaxed, a confused expression crossing her face, when it did not strike. 

And then the boy, her apprentice, let out a whimper. 

“No.” She looked at the boy, then at Vader, then back. “No, what--what are you doing?”

Vader did not answer. He only pushed further, pouring all his hatred and anger and fury, all the strength of the Dark Side, into the apprentice’s mind. He did not care for the way the boy writhed, did not care for the agony and terror he was beginning to feel--

“Vader,” Ahsoka said sharply, “stop!” 

Vader ignored her. It was quite easy. 

“VADER!” 

He stopped, then, before it could even get painful; he retracted his presence from the Padawan’s mind, and turned toward Ahsoka. 

“Why did you leave?” he asked, quietly. 

“I--” Ahsoka stuttered. 

_ “Why did you leave?”  _ he roared. 

“I, I…” Ahsoka swallowed. “I had no choice. I’m sorry,” she went on earnestly, tears filling her eyes. “I was sorry for years, and I’m sorry now. I regretted it for years, especially once I found out--I never wanted to leave you, but I--I couldn’t stay--” She moved towards her apprentice. “Please, please don’t hurt him! You can’t!” 

“That is not under your control,” Vader told her coldly, and attacked the boy’s mind once more. 

Vader did not have the ability of Force lightning, as his Master did; since Mustafar, he would not have that ability. But he had other ways of tormenting individuals, of making them feel nothing but anger and fear--

“Vader, stop!”

\--of assaulting every empty memory they had; he was rushing backwards through time inside this boy’s mind, but he did not care, barely noticed that one memory was of a sand-filled planet--a man and a woman screaming. 

That one. 

“STOP!” 

Vader finally pushed to the point of pain, forced him to feel him in his mind, as well as the awfulness, as the memory. The boy let out a scream; that, Vader knew, that would hurt Ahsoka more than anything. He would kill him this way, slowly, drive him out of his mind with the Force and then kill him, and then--as for Ahsoka--

_ “He’s your son!”  _

Vader stopped, dead; instantly, he withdrew.

_ “What?”  _

The boy dropped senseless to the floor. 

“He--he is--” Ahsoka swallowed, blinked tears from her eyes. “He’s  _ your son,  _ Anakin.” 

“No, he is not!” It could not be true, because Vader had killed Padme, because Vader had killed his child. “He cannot be my child.” 

It could not be true because  _ Vader had tortured him.  _

Maybe it had only been agonizing for a minute, but the point of the matter was that he had tormented him at all, that he had made him feel such pain; he had invaded his own son’s mind, without remorse. 

“He is!” Ahsoka seemed to bite back a sob. “His name is Luke Skywalker. His guardians died when he was seven, Obi-Wan thought it would be best if I train him--”

Vader drowned out her words, drowned out what he’d done, drowned out everything except the question he sent out into the Force:  _ is he my son?  _

The answer was obvious--in the Force, and in the blond hair that spilled over the boy’s--over Luke’s--unconscious face, and in the blue eyes that were closed, and in his strength in the Force. 

He was. 

_ You killed me. I hate you!  _

Rage took him. Rage went spiraling out through the room, through his castle, through everything--

But it would all be worthless if Luke was not alive. 

Ahsoka was saying something, maybe still explaining away the boy’s existence; Vader neither heard nor cared. Instead he was on his knees, releasing Luke from his binders, lifting the boy into his arms--searching--

“Luke,” he demanded. “Luke! Come back!” 

There was no answer. 

The Dark Side gave no answer. 

_ There is another option.  _

No, he decided. No. There was only the Dark Side, nothing else--

“You have to do it,” came Ahsoka’s voice from behind him. Vader spun, Luke cradled against his chest, to look at her. “You brought him here. Now you have to call him back.” 

“No,” Vader snarled, “no, I--”

“He is all that’s left of Padme!” Ahsoka took a deep breath. “Anakin. Please. I know you’re hardly in there, but...you have to try. He’s your  _ son.”  _

_ He’s my son.  _

She was right. 

Reluctantly, Vader closed his eyes, released his rage...and opened himself to as much of the light side of the Force as he could recall. It filled him, so much so that it made him shudder; such light, such goodness flowing through him...he could not bear it. It was not  _ him,  _ it was  _ weak-- _

But he had to do it for his son, the child he did not deserve. 

_ Luke. Luke, please.  _

It was weak. Whatever goodness existed in him yet, it was utterly weak, spread thin, almost gone; but to Vader’s surprise, it was there. 

And it was all connected to Luke. 

_ Come back to me.  _

  
  


_ He is alone. He is alone once again, as he always is...and this time things are worse. This time, the Force is not with him, and he has failed in the only thing that should have mattered. This time, there is a dark pit opening to swallow him up-- _

_ “Father.”  _

_ He turns at the voice, desperate-- _

_ His son is there, the small child from before. But even in that young face, Vader knows that it is Luke. His son, his only son, who he  _ should have  _ recognized...who he had used, simply to get at Ahsoka.  _

_ Ahsoka does not matter. She never should have mattered, when a member of his family was still alive.  _

_ “Luke,” he says.  _

_ He is terrified that Luke will look at him in fury, anger, fear--but there is none of that in his eyes. Instead, there is only sadness.  _

_ “Why?” he asks. “Why did you do it?” _

_ Why? There are too many answers, each of them worse than the last; but eventually he settles for the one that makes the most sense.  _

_ “Because I am a monster,” he says.  _

_ Luke tilts his head.  _

_ “But I’m your son,” he says. “And I’m not a monster. At least...I don’t think I am.”  _

_ “No,” Vader says, trying to speak as gently as possible. “You are not. You are not a monster at all, Luke; there is  _ nothing  _ evil in you.”  _

_ “But then...I can’t be your son.”  _

_ “You can,” Vader tells him...and then, for the first time in years, he focuses on the memories of goodness inside him--the memories of beauty, and wonder, and hope. “Because your mother was...a queen, among women. She was beautiful, lovely, kind, hopeful...she was everything. And I see much of her...in you.”  _

_ “Then you loved someone,” child Luke says, seeming somehow wise beyond his years. “You loved my mother. So you can’t be completely a monster, can you?”  _

_ “I...you do not understand,” Vader says. “I am a monster, my son. You do not deserve me. I should let you go...but I am selfish.” He reaches out, towards his son; and to his surprise, he is able to touch him, to hold Luke’s tiny, ghost-like hand in his own. “I want you to come back. You do not deserve me, but please...come back. Come back to me. You do not deserve me, but I want only to know you.” He searches Luke’s eyes desperately. “Please.”  _

_ Luke smiles at him. Vader holds that smile in his heart, treasures it; he knows he does not deserve it, but holds onto it all the same.  _

  
  


Vader opened his eyes. He felt, for once, at peace; for the first time in years, his fears were stilled, his anger quieted. There was nothing but peace. 

He looked down...and then he remembered why he felt that way. 

Luke, his son, was waking up. 

“You did it,” Ahsoka breathed behind him; her hands were still bound, but she must have gotten up and walked over to them during the time Vader had spent immersed in the Force. “You actually did it.” 

Vader ignored her; his sight was only on Luke. The boy was breathing naturally, his chest rising and falling, his eyelids fluttering slowly open. Vader could not see their color, but he knew from his visions that they were bright blue. Those blue eyes roamed across the room, unfocused…

Then they focused on him. 

“Luke,” Vader said. “I--” The words were difficult to even imagine, but he had to say them. “I am sorry.”

Luke frowned, as if struggling to remember, and then…

“Father,” he croaked. 

He remembered. 

And already he was shifting, as if realizing who was holding him, as if realizing what had happened. 

What his father had done to him. 

“I did not intend it,” Vader told him desperately, wishing that it were possible for him to sound  _ emotional,  _ for once. To sound...loving. “I did not know that it was you, and if I had I would never have done it.” 

“You…” The fear in Luke’s eyes didn’t fade; he just looked confused. “You didn’t know?”

“I did not know,” Vader said firmly. “I did not know, and I wish that I had never,  _ never  _ done that to you, and I will go on making it up to you for the rest of your life if I must.” 

“You…” Luke frowned. “You said that before.” 

Vader was utterly confused. “What?”

“I…” Luke shifted again, and Vader set him down on the floor; now that he knew the boy was all right, he didn’t have to hold him. But Vader could not have explained the sense of bereavement he felt when he was no longer touching his son. “I can’t explain it. I was unconscious, I was seeing Mother…” 

Ahsoka had done one thing right, then: she had told him about Padme. 

“And then I was seeing you, but you didn’t look like Darth Vader. And yet...I  _ knew  _ it was you. I was afraid, I tried to run, all I remembered was...what you had done…” Luke shuddered. He was still afraid, still terrified of his father...and for good reason. “But then you told me that you were sorry, and that it had been a mistake, and that you would never do it again, and...that you loved me.” There were tears in his eyes. “And...and I didn’t think it was actually true. I thought when I woke up you would just do that to me again, but now…” He reached up, seized Vader’s cloak. “Are you telling the truth? Do…” Luke closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. “Do you love me?”

“I do,” Vader said, reaching out and seizing Luke’s arm. “I do love you. More than anything.” He wiped a tear from Luke’s cheek. “Until today, I did not even know that you existed.”

Luke was nodding slowly, but Vader could still see that he hadn’t accepted it. Desperately, he looked at Ahsoka. 

“Luke,” she said, inching closer to them. “He is telling the truth. He didn’t know you existed, and he was angry with me for something I did a long time ago.” 

“Were you angry for a good reason?” Luke asked. 

Vader stared into Ahsoka’s eyes for a long time. Many years had passed, but to him, in this moment, she was still the Padawan who had trusted him, who had wanted to live up to his expectations. The Padawan who he had failed. 

“No,” he admitted at last. “I was wrong.”

And then, finally, Ahsoka smiled.

“He’ll never do it again, Luke,” Ahsoka said. “And he loves you. I promise.”

Luke was starting to cave; Vader could sense it. But just in case, he decided to say more; he did not want his son to leave him. It was what he deserved, and he knew it; but he was selfish. He  _ needed  _ Luke. 

So, for the second time that day, he bared himself to his son.

“I do love you,” Vader said, brushing a lock of hair from Luke’s eyes. “If I could go back and change what I had done, I would; I wish that I could drive my lightsaber into my own heart instead of torment you like that again. But I cannot do that; so, instead, I will be a father to you, or I will attempt to. I cannot promise that I will do well, at all...but I will  _ try.” _

Luke was nodding again, tears spilling onto his cheeks.

“I will be as much of a father as I can,” Vader said fiercely, “and I will make sure that you know every day that I love you, and that I will never hurt you, until you never doubt me. It may take years, but I will do it. You...you have saved me, Luke, and above all else,  _ I love you,  _ and I swear that I will never harm you again. Nor will I let anyone else harm you.” 

“Then…” Luke smiled, ever so faintly, but it was the same smile from the vision. “Then I love you, too.” 

Vader could not believe it. He could  _ not.  _ He had harmed his son, had started to kill him...but thanks to Ahsoka, and thanks to Luke...he had not. And now...

Now his son loved him back. Shakily, maybe; of course, he was still afraid, and he had every reason to be. Vader doubted Luke had totally forgiven him, either...but at least he was willing to believe that his father was...well. A father. 

Not a monster. A father. 

“Luke,” Vader said. “Did anything else happen in the vision?”

“Uh...yeah,” Luke said, seeming less certain of himself. “We...we hugged.”

Hugged. The word was alien to him. 

“Would you like to do that now?”

Luke nodded shyly. 

Vader had not experienced physical contact in years; he did not want to experience it again. It was a reminder of all he used to have, all he had cast away…

But for Luke, he would do it. 

So, as Luke reached his arms up, Vader bent down and hugged his son to his chest. He had never been prepared for such a feeling: of that small body pressed to him, the soft mop of hair against his chest, the small arms around his neck that clutched him like a lifeline. 

_ Luke loved him.  _

“Anakin,” Ahsoka said, “you are unbelievably lucky. Do you understand that?”

He did. Luke should have hated him. Luke still did fear him, on some level; Vader could sense it. But Luke was also willing to put his fear aside, for the moment, because...because he loved his father. 

What were the chances of that?

“I know,” Vader said, and clutched Luke tighter to him. 

He had been in darkness for fifteen years. 

But now...now, the tiniest of lights had appeared. Not a bright light. Vader doubted that he would completely walk in light again, or be able to turn against the Dark Side. But he could weather life’s storms now, could stand anything the galaxy threw at him, as long as his little candle of light, his Luke, was with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I absolutely BS'ed the stuff with the Force and ghosts, but I loved the concept, and Spell likes weird fics, so what can I say XD Hope you liked it Spell!


End file.
